Lie of the land

When I was aged 10, the farmers used to come round the schools to pick volunteers to work on the farms during the summer holidays, mainly to help bring in the harvest. The country was still building u

Iris climbed down from the donkey cart that had given her a lift from Penzance station, being careful not to ladder her best stockings, and walked up the narrow lane to Nantolven Farm. There was no si

Finally a decent morning after three days of steady rain and unseasonable winds. Ruth pushed her sunglasses up her slender nose, smoothed down her gardening trousers and took a hearty breath of sweet

JOSH dabbed expertly at the cut he’d just finished sewing up. He’d made a neat job of it and it should heal very nicely, leaving only a line. It wouldn’t be seen, anyway, once the cat’s fur grew back.

THERE had to be at least 30 kids, milling around the ferry terminal like ants. “Why do people transport kids at night, anyway?” Julia asked her client, Mr Berry, who was chief buyer for the ferry cong

I LOOKED at my allocated “bed” underneath the back window of the caravan and wondered. Firstly, about my chances of getting a good night since I was already sleeping badly. And secondly, what madness